


Broken Brother

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Possession, Brother Feels, Dean Winchester is Loved, Depressed Dean Winchester, Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Like a tiny lil bit, Not Shippy, Pep Talk, Sam is emotionally intelligent, broment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: Dean isn't taking the chance to eject Michael from his mind, so Sam steps in to see what the problem is. He finds a version of Dean that he's never had to face before, but one that perhaps he's been needing to have a conversation with for some time.





	Broken Brother

**Author's Note:**

> OK, do I think this is gonna happen? Not really. Do I think Dean would ever act quite like this? Maybe but probably not. Was this cathartic to write as someone who has been increasingly frustrated with how little Sam Winchester actually seems to understand and appreciate his brother? YES.  
> If you're not into destiel, don't worry, there's nothing overt and you can easily read it as friendship. It's show-level subtext.  
> I admit that Dean might be sorta OOC in this but so is him saying yes to Michael sooooo haha lmao

The air smells the same.

 

That’s the first thing Sam notices. He _knows_ it’s not real, but his first inhale almost makes him believe it is. Stale popcorn and that toasty smell from the heater. And the faint scent of fresh laundry, from all the blankets and pillows.

 

Dean wanted it to be comfy in the den.

 

Sam swallows, looking around. The TV is on. Dr Sexy, of course. Volume turned down low, but there are subtitles. A big-haired nurse is giving some corny speech about the value of life and the joy of living. Sam has seen the episode, twice. He wasn’t really paying attention either time.

 

He almost doesn’t spot Dean at first, until he sees the feet sticking out from the end of the couch. Taking a deep breath, Sam walks around to confront his brother.

 

Dean looks surprised to see him, his glazed expression turning to an open mouth and blinking eyes. He scrambles a little on the couch, pushing up into a half-sitting position.

 

“Dean,” whispers Sam. Dean huffs in disbelief.

 

“Sammy… what’re you doing here?”

 

Sam gestures at Dean. “What are _you_ still doing here? Michael is dying. We got him. But you’re not expelling him. What the _hell_ , man?”

 

Dean’s face drops into a frown, or perhaps a scowl. He looks away, easing back until he’s lying down again. “Yeah. Yeah, I know Michael’s worse for wear. I can _feel_ it. Wondered when his luck was gonna run out.”

 

Sam shakes his head, perplexed and frustated. “OK, so let’s go! Shove him out already.”

 

Dean sighs, gaze drifting back over to the TV. “I dunno if I can. I tried a few times, early on. Wasn’t strong enough.”

 

Sam is getting angry. Who _is_ this spineless lump? Where’s the Dean Sam knows? The Dean Sam needs?

 

“He might have been stronger then. But he’s _weak_ now. He’s vulnerable. You can get him out. You just gotta get the hell up.”

 

Dean’s forehead wrinkles in vague distress. He shuts his eyes. “Just stop it. Leave me alone, OK? I can’t do what you want me to do.”

 

“Why are you being like this?” Sam snaps, gesturing wildly at Dean’s slack form. “What is wrong with you?! We fought really hard to get here, Dean, to get you back. And you’re just, what, giving up?”

 

Dean’s eyes flash open, jaw set. He still refuses to look at Sam, glaring at the TV. “I fought pretty damn hard too. All my life, actually. D’you ever stop to think that maybe I’m tired?”

 

Sam scoffs, turning away and pacing a few steps before he turns back. “Jesus, Dean. What did Michael _do_ to you?”

 

“ _Nothing_!” Dean half-shouts, sitting up properly, finally looking at his brother again. “That’s the point! He left me the hell alone. And you know what? I had a _rest_. I got to stop. I’m so damn tired, Sam. I didn’t realise how _bare_ I’d worn till I had to actually sit still and take a look at myself. And I’m done. I got nothing left to give.”

 

Sam blinks, horrified. “Dean…”

 

Dean leans an elbow on his knee and waves towards the door, dropping his head and closing his eyes again. For the first time, Sam notices how weary he looks.

 

“I can’t _do_ what you want me to do, Sam. I’m sorry. Just go.”

 

Sam shakes his head slowly, swallowing. “I’m not leaving.”

 

Dean exhales heavily, resting his head in his hands. “Same old, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” says Sam, voice cracking. “Same old.”

 

“Thought we were past all that.”

 

Sam gives a humourless laugh. “Yeah. We are. Soon as you’re past… _this_. Whatever this is.”

 

“I told you,” Dean says dully, raising his head once more and giving Sam a sad stare. “I’m tired. Jesus, Sam, I’m friggin’ exhausted.”

 

“But we _need_ you, Dean-”

 

“No, you don’t,” Dean interrupts impatiently. “I know you think that. But you’re a grown man with a big ass family now. Look, I know I’m being selfish. I know you probably hate me right now. And I’m _sorry_. I wish I could fight the good fight and come out swingin’ and be who you want me to be but I just can’t _do_ that any more. Can’t keep fighting.”

 

Sam can feel the tears in his eyes. He’s scared, he realises. He’s never seen Dean like this. So apathetic and defeated.

 

“Dean…” he tries, but Dean holds up a hand.

 

“Save the speech, Sammy. Heard you make it enough times. Made it myself too. I know about the world full of monsters we gotta go shoot. I know about all the people we save. I know the family business. I know I’m bein’ a coward. _I get it._ Don’t waste your breath telling me about how the world needs us, needs me, whatever. The world has _had_ me, all my life, giving it everything. I gotta rest now.”

 

Sam balls his hands into fists and shifts where he stands, blinking back the tears, clearing his throat to steady his voice. “OK. I won’t give you that speech.”

 

Dean gives him a sceptical look. “Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Huh. Well, thanks-”

 

“You’re right,” Sam continues, louder. “You’ve given the world enough. And you deserve a break. We all do.”

 

He pauses, gathering his thoughts, desperate to express them in a way that might make Dean listen.

 

“You’ve been giving your whole life. No one knows that more than me. You gave up anything and everything you could for me. And I’m grateful, Dean. I really am. _Thank you_.”

 

He says the words with passion, with a conviction he’s never said them with before. He sees Dean pause, looking uncertain for the first time.

 

“Sam, you don’t have to-”

 

“Yes, I do. I’m not _stupid_. I know the fronts you put up. I know how much it’s been costing you to just keep battling on, year after year, taking losses and always feeling like you have to be strong. Always pushing aside your own feelings. Always putting me first, putting _anyone_ first but yourself. I never wanted to talk about it, because _I’m_ the coward, not you. I never wanted to give you the chance to stop being strong, stop being there for me, because I’ve always needed you. And now… the inevitable. Of course you’re exhausted. Of course you don’t want to keep fighting, keep sacrificing.”

 

Dean looks stricken. “No, you- you’re not a coward. I _wanted_ to be there for you. I wanted that. This isn’t because of you.”

 

Sam walks forward and sits on the couch, twisting to face his brother. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to take the blame or anything. I’m just saying… I get it. I _understand_ , Dean. It’s like you said. You’ve got nothing left to give. But… if you’ve got nothing else to give, maybe you should start taking.”

 

Dean narrows his eyes. “What?”

 

“ _Taking_ ,” Sam repeats firmly. “You keep describing life like it’s some endless uphill battle. And I know it feels that way. But you have so much to enjoy. You should have a rest, absolutely, you’ve earned it. But that doesn’t mean you have to give up and leave us all behind.”

 

Dean is starting to shake his head. Sam hastens on.

 

“Charlie and Bobby. We have a second chance with them, Dean. You’re _missing_ it. They want to get to know you. And Mom. I know she’s hurt you. She’s hurt me too. But I think she’s finally ready to see us as actual _people_ that she might care about, instead of reminders of what she’s lost. And…”

 

Sam hesitates, aware that Castiel can be a delicate subject. Dean is actually listening now, though, eyes gazing uncertainly at his clasped hands hanging between his knees.

 

“Cas,” Sam says softly. Dean looks up, inhaling unsteadily. “He’s been miserable. Moping around, a lot like you did when we lost him, actually. He needs you. I mean… there’s still so many movies he hasn’t seen, right?”

 

Sam is trying to steer away from sensitive territory by cracking a joke, but he’s not actually expecting Dean to give a shaky laugh. Smiling back, Sam forges ahead.

 

“There’s so much stuff you could do with your life that’s not fighting and sacrificing. Screw the world, screw the family business! What do you love doing?”

 

Dean blinks, looking a little stumped. Sam raps the back of his hand against Dean’s knee.

 

“What about driving Baby? Come on, don’t tell me you don’t wanna get behind that wheel again. Haven’t you missed her?”

 

Dean’s lips quirk and he shrugs. “I always miss Baby when we’re apart. _True love,_ Sam.”

 

“Right!” Sam enthuses, grinning now. “What else? Burgers. You once told me you wanted to eat a burger from every diner in America. Plenty of time to achieve that dream, Dean.”

 

Dean is smiling faintly, shaking his head like Sam is being an idiot. Sam doesn’t care.

 

“Cooking. Don’t think I haven’t found your recipe book collection in the kitchen. You’re _good_ at it, too. And what about that holiday? You, me, Cas. Mai tais on the beach. I want that too.”

 

Dean waves away the idea, looking down again, but Sam grabs his shoulder with a serious expression.

 

“No, really. I’m not talking crap here. You’re a _person_ , Dean. Not just a soldier or a killer or even a big brother. And you have a _life_ that you should be filling up with things you love. People you love. Well, the things are all waiting out there for you, and a whole lotta people. People who love you. _I_ love you.”

 

Sam’s voice is breaking as he finishes talking. Dean’s eyes are shining as he stares at the floor, knuckles white where his hands are wrapped around each other. Sam gives him a little shake.

 

“Dean, come _home_ ,” he whispers, pleading. There’s a stretched out silence before Dean takes a deep breath and meets Sam’s eyes once more.

 

“OK,” he says thickly. “But we’re booking that damn holiday as soon as we’re back.”

 

Sam scrambles to his feet and pulls Dean up after him, yanking him into a tight hug.

 

“Deal.”


End file.
